


I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot

by MuseofWriting



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Episode: s02 Zombizou, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kisses, Survivor Guilt, more friendship than relationshippy, post-Zombizou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 18:37:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14455347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuseofWriting/pseuds/MuseofWriting
Summary: She can always save him, she can always bring him back, she can never stop him.





	I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://marichatmas.tumblr.com/post/173005565965/i-really-like-it-that-chats-no-arguing-now-line)
> 
> Title is from Shakespeare's Sonnet 71
> 
> **Warning: Spoilers for Zombizou**

            Ladybug is suddenly yanked from his side, flying gracelessly through the air. She crashes to the ground hard enough to make him wince in sympathy, even if she’s unlikely to be hurt through the suit. He sees her scrambling backwards, he sees Chronogirl bearing down, hand outstretched, and like a stone dropped in his stomach he knows she won’t get away in time.

            He doesn’t feel himself move. He feels the ground beneath his feet as darts forward faster than should have been possible. He feels her warm and safe in his arms, he feels a hand against his back, and then he feels nothing at all.

—

            “Beautiful evening, milady,” Chat said, dropping onto the roof beside Ladybug with a grin. She jerked her head in silent acknowledgement, spinning her yoyo absently. The cord wrapped lazily around and around her hand until she was grasping the yoyo, and then her fingers kicked it back out on a reverse course, unravelling out to arm’s length. Chat’s grin faltered slightly at her silence. “Everything alright?” he asked.

            “Chat Noir, can we talk?” she asked. Her voice was tight, struggling for composure. He saw the muscles in her jaw shift as she spoke, locked and tense.

            “Of course,” he said, trying to sound easy and relaxed, ignoring the stutter in his chest. He dropped down to sitting, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the roof. The street below them was empty, the pavement shimmering with reflected street lights, puddles left from the late evening shower disturbed into ripples by water dripping off the gutters. “What’s on your mind, Bugaboo?”

            She caught the yoyo and stuck it back on her belt before lowering herself to sit beside him. “What you did today— please don’t do that again,” she said. Chat flushed, his cheeks turning dark.

            “What I— if this is about the two Ladybugs comment, I was only teasing, I—”

            “No, no,” she said, waving her hands to cut him off. “I mean, that was annoying but— When you jumped in front of Chronogirl for me. You shouldn’t have done that.” Chat tilted his head.

            “What do you mean?” he asked. She jumped up back to her feet, pacing along the ledge of the roof.

            “You can’t sacrifice yourself for me, Chat. I can’t let you do that.”

            “Sacrifice— Ladybug, I thought we agreed this is how we work. I take the front line to distract and fend off the akuma while you figure out a brilliant plan with your lucky charm. That’s what I’m good at. It’s been a pretty good system so far.”

            “This is _different_ from that, though. This isn’t you just covering me while I come up with a plan. You—” She stopped pacing, clenching a fist in frustration. “You weren’t trying to fight her off, or even shove me out of the way. You just stepped in front of me and took the hit for me.” He frowned.

            “Ladybug, what are you talking about?” She stopped in her pacing and stared at him. Wide blue eyes met his own, lacking their usual confidence.

            “You don’t remember,” she said flatly.

            “I don’t remember what?”

            Ladybug let out an explosive sigh and dropped back to sitting beside him. She pulled her knees up and tucked them under her chin, looking surprisingly vulnerable. Chat resisted the urge to reach out to her, worried she’d take it the wrong way. “Today,” she said. “Alix got akumatized twice. The first time, she succeeded in travelling back in time, but still didn’t manage to save her watch, and so the version of her in that timeline got akumatized as well. But I grabbed hold of her — the first her — and she dragged me with her through time — that’s why there were two of me, as well as two of her. My memories of both timelines merged when the other me disappeared but…” She glanced sideways at him. “I guess I was the only one.” She buried her face against her knees. “Ugh, time travel makes my head hurt.” Chat reached out and gently rested a hand on her arm. She peeked out from behind her knees at him.

            “So in the other version, I…?”

            “You d— You disappeared, along with most of the rest of the class.” She unfolded herself, pulling her legs underneath her to sit up and look at him. Chat let his arm drop back to his side. “I had grabbed her arm with my yoyo, but then she grabbed the cord, and yanked me forward, and I was on the ground, I didn’t have time to get up, she was reaching out for me, and then—” She shifted, pulling her gaze away from him, back down towards the street. She ran her fingers lightly along her own knee, feeling the impossibly form-fitting suit, tough as steel armor. “I didn’t even see you,” she said, her voice so soft Chat had to strain to hear. “I blinked and you were just _there_ , wrapped around me, a shield between me and her, and it was too late. She’d already gotten you.” Her fingers curled into a fist against her thigh.

            Chat waited for a moment, but she just watched the empty street below. He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sounds like something I’d do,” he said.

            She looked up at him sharply. “But that’s my point— you _can’t_ do something like that again, Chat. We’re a team. I can’t have you— I can’t—”

            “Ladybug, stop,” Chat said, holding up a hand. “Look at me. I’m here, all in one piece and handsome as ever. That’s thanks to you. Your miraculous cure always sets things right. You always save us, no matter what trouble we get into. I’m the front line to make sure you have time to come up with all your brilliant, impossible plans and strategies. If that means jumping between you and an akuma—”

            “That’s not fair!” She was on her feet again, shoulders raised with tension, her hands balled tightly. She resumed pacing the edge of the roof, gesturing wildly to the sky. “I can’t ask you to do that for me! I don’t _want_ you to do that for me! We’re a team, and I want you fighting _with_ me, not—”

            “And I _do_ , but if it’s a choice—”

            “That’s not a choice you get to make for me!” They both broke off, staring at each other. Her eyes were pale and gray in his night vision, caught in the shadow of a looming chimney. Chat climbed to his feet.

            “Think about the alternative,” he said gently. “Let’s say I didn’t jump in front of Chronogirl. Then _you_ disappear and I— what? _Best_ case scenario, I manage to get to the akuma, but then what? I can’t fix it. I can’t cure the akumas. I can’t set everything back to rights. And if I can’t hold onto it then the akuma flies off and creates a hundred more Chronogirls, and you’re _gone_ and I can’t bring you back and—” Chat broke off, his voice unable to go any further without shattering. He swallowed. “If I get taken out, we still have a chance. If you get taken out, everything’s over. You _have_ to stay safe, no matter what.” Ladybug shook her head in short, interrupted movements.

            “No, you don’t understand. We’re partners. You have to stay _with_ me, you have to… We’re supposed to fight the akumas _together_. And you left me alone. I mean,” she raised a hand to scrub at her temple, face scrunched by a frown, “I know you didn’t _leave_ me, I know you were trying to protect me. But…” She trailed off, fingers flexing in a helpless, inarticulate gesture.

            “You can always bring me back. I’ll—”

            “Your _eyes were closed_ ,” she snapped. Chat paused, his mouth still open, taken aback by the fury in her words. “You _died_ for me and your _eyes were closed_. You didn’t even— you didn’t even care about yourself, you just— you just—” She took a deep breath, shoulders heaving, as Chat reached down and gently caught her hand, pressing their fingers between each other.

            “Ladybug. Ladybug, look at me! I’m not dead. I’m right here, because you always save everyone. You’re my partner and I’m not going anywhere.” She looked at her hand, not returning his grip, but not pulling away either.

            “You can’t scare me like that,” she said. “I can’t do this without you.”

            Despite his best efforts, his voice was not remotely steady as he responded. “You don’t have to.” Her fingers pressed gently against his knuckles.

            “So if something like this happens again…” He hesitated.

            “If it’s you or me, milady, I’m always going to choose you. But it’s because I know you can _fix_ —” She yanked her hand free, face twisted in a furious glare.

            “That isn’t fair, Chat.”

            “Why? Because you wouldn’t do the same for me?”

            He had no idea where the words came from, and he regretted them even as he was saying them. Her face spasmed with— fury? Sadness? Betrayal? She said, “That’s not true and you know it,” and she was swinging away. He tried to call out, tried to shout his apology after her, but he was too late. In moments she was nothing more than a shadow against the night sky. Chat stood where she had left him for a long time, a damp chill seeping into his bones.

—

            Something discolored and too large for a bird over her shoulder distracts his eye. As he reflexively glances towards it, all thought of his declaration of love vanishes from his mind. He has only a second, if that. With all his strength he pulls her around, reversing their positions, reaching his arms and shoulders out as big as he can make them, trying to encase her, shield her. The arrow explodes against his back, and the struggle for his mind is only momentary before sharp hatred overtakes him, piercing through all his rational thought. 

—

            After they fought Dislocoeur, he didn’t see her for three days, and by then his confession had turned to ashes. He’d missed his chance, and he knew it— it would simply be awkward to try to bring it up again. Or another akuma would inevitably interrupt him. It wasn’t time, he tried to tell himself, just not yet. Not for forever, just not yet. His heart still warmed at the sight of her, crouching on top of the Arc de Triomphe, looking down at the lights of the Champs Elysées. The monument itself had been closed to tourists for the night, but people still milled around below, taking pictures from across the street.

            “Bonsoir, milady,” he said. She smiled, glancing sideways at him.

            “Hi kitty,” she said. “No akumas to be seen?”

            “Not a one,” he said. “We can enjoy the city for the night. What do you say to a late night crêpe?” She reached over and flicked his bell.

            “You never give up, do you?” she asked. He shrugged, grinning wide, teeth almost luminescent in the dark.

            “What can I say, I’m _purr_ sistent,” he said. She rolled her eyes at the pun, but he could see the cracks in her façade.

            “Can we find someplace quieter to talk?” she asked. He tried to ignore the stutter in his heart when she said that. It wasn’t worth the inevitable disappointment to imagine impossibilities. Their quiet talks were a fixture of their partnership — it would be a discussion of strategy, nothing more, unwise to hold out in the open with no idea who might be listening. Whatever moments of camaraderie slipped through, Ladybug drew back over the line of professionalism when he pushed too far.

            “After you,” he said, giving her half a bow. She stood up and leaped downwards, dropping her way down the Arc until she grew even with the buildings across the street, where she tossed out her yoyo to hook against a chimney and swung through the open air. He leapt after her, extending his baton to pole-vault across to the nearest rooftop, headlights a streak of dark yellow beneath him.

            He didn’t ever want to make her uncomfortable — breaking the trust between them with an insinuation too far was the last thing in the world he wanted — and he’d learned to tell the difference between when she was tolerating and even secretly amused by his flirting, and when she was genuinely annoyed. The problem was that sometimes he lost himself in the sheer freedom of the suit, and forgot to dial back his enthusiasm. Whenever the mask was on his face, it was a constant adrenaline high. He had never in his life been allowed to _not_ be Adrien Agreste. He had never been allowed to be carefree, to tell stupid jokes and behave recklessly and decide where he went and when. The range of possibility open to him was breathtaking, almost terrifying. He had just leapt into the air off the Arc de Triomphe. He could plunge into an alley or climb a skyscraper and no one could tell him to stop. The exhilarating headrush had never once faded — not even when an akuma was about to send him plummeting to his death, or when he was pinned with his ring about to be pried from his finger, or when Ladybug quietly broke his heart. The danger was worth it, completely and without question, for these moments. He soared above the city, his feet barely touching the ground before he launched into the sky again, the cold night air sharp in his lungs. It wasn’t just the flirting, it was everything — he smiled wider and breathed deeper and talked louder in the suit. He had never known who Adrien really was until he wore a mask.

            She didn’t feel the same way, he knew. He could see it in her eyes, in the worried line of her brow as they discussed their strategies hunting down Hawk Moth. The suit brought her confidence and power, but its responsibilities hung heavy on her shoulders. She still enjoyed being Ladybug, he was sure, but he saw none of his own ecstasy reflected in her. The fierce pride of her smile at curing an akuma and setting Paris back to rights was a different kind of joy: all fire and drive while he basked in whimsy. This was a choice for her, each and every day, a balancing act of the superhero and her life outside the suit. As soon as Adrien had seen that strange little box on his table, it hadn’t been a choice. Not really.

            She came to an abrupt halt on the roof of a pharmacy closed for the night, the street below deserted except for passing cars. He skidded to a standstill beside her. She was quiet for a moment, watching the street below, her pigtails swaying slightly in the breeze. Chat expanded his baton so he could lean on it, watching her.

            “I thought we talked about— about you taking a hit for me,” she said, and his heart sank.

            “Milady,” he started, standing up and sticking his baton back into his belt. She turned to face him.

            “You nearly—” She paused, shook her head, and backtracked. “I don’t like having to fight you, Chat.”

            Shame burned in his cheeks. She was probably right, there must have been some other way, some way he could have gotten them both out of the way of the arrow. He should never have put her in that position. Except that it had happened so fast, and caught him off guard — there had been no time for thought, and he wasn’t clever the way that she was. He couldn’t look around the world and see the way the puzzle pieces fit together. Once she pointed him in the right direction — grab that towel, hand me your tail, cataclysm that wall — he could intuit enough of her plan to carry out his part of it, but half the time she still surprised him by how exactly she managed to snag the akumatized object. He never knew, when her lucky charm made a coin or a spoon or a bouncy ball, what she was supposed to do with it.

            “I’m sorry, milady,” he said. “I saw the arrow coming and I panicked.” The ghost of a smile passed briefly over her face.

            “We could have just jumped down, Chat. I would have grabbed the building with my yoyo.”

            “I didn’t think,” he muttered. “You know you’re the smart one.” She reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder.

            “I was trying to tell you,” she said. “That’s why I was transformed at all, I was already following Dislocoeur. What were you about to say to me that was so important anyway?” He stepped away, shaking his head.

            “It’s not important. I’m sorry, I—”

            “Chat, just…” She fiddled with her yoyo absently, fingers twisting across it where it was stuck in her belt. “We’re a team,” she said eventually.

            “Yes, we are,” he responded after a moment, when she said nothing else.

            “And that’s— I mean, we have to stick together.” Her lips shaped and reshaped around words unsaid as she struggled for the right ones. Chat’s ears twitched, a distant burst of noise momentarily distracting — a party grown too loud, perhaps. She plowed forward. “I know you don’t want to see me hurt, but I don’t want to see _you_ hurt either. I hate seeing you jump in front of me as if it doesn’t matter if you get— And then I had to _fight_ you—” She broke off, biting her lip. Chat watched her, uncertain, opening his mouth and then closing it again as he searched for what to say.

            “I’m trying to be practical, Ladybug,” he eventually said. “I mean… it’s not just that. You know I… You’re my partner and I’d take a bullet for you. But that’s not the point. I’m not jumping in front of akumas for the fun of it. I don’t _like_ being brainwashed, or disappeared, or whatever. But I can’t do this on my own. I literally can’t. You _can_. You’re the one who really wins the day, you’re the one Paris is depending on. I’m just…” He glanced down at his hands, the black gloves half swallowed by the shadows even with his night vision, save the glowing green pawprint on his ring. “…bad luck.” From the corner of his eye, he saw her turn her head away.

            “Last time we had this fight, you said I didn’t have to do it on my own.” Chat clenched his hand into a fist and looked back up. She’d wandered a step or two down the rooftop, watching a crumpled newspaper blow sadly through the street, whisked up and abandoned at intervals by the breeze that kept it moving. “Chat, if— What if you _could_ do this by yourself? What if you could capture the akuma and cure it and set everything back to rights, all of it? Or what if you were me, if we switched miraculouses and I was Chat and you were Ladybug? Would you let me jump in front of you? Would you _want_ me to take the hit for you, to save you?”

            “Of course not,” he whispered. His pulse pounded against his throat, strangling him. “I…”

            “Wouldn’t you feel guilty if I did?” she asked. Her eyes stayed fixed on the street below. The newspaper blew up against a runoff drain, flapping against the edge of the sidewalk. He didn’t answer. The wind was picking up, bringing the cold with it, reminding them it was February. Chat could see his breath, a long stream of mist as he exhaled. When they had stood in silence for far too long, Ladybug’s shoulders eventually slumped. She reached for her yoyo and tossed out the string. “I’ll see you later, kitty,” she said, and swung away.

 —

            He can feel their kisses as prickling warmth seeping into his skin. He concentrates all his willpower into standing his ground, focusing on the rigid certainty of his baton, straining against the press of fevered bodies behind him. Then she’s there, in front of him, calling for him. She puts a hand on his cheek, and how is he supposed to know whether the dizzy rush of heat is from Zombizou’s poison kiss or his own heart trying to slam its way out of his chest? He tries to sound calm and relaxed, for her sake. He insists “No arguing now,” because they don’t have time. She can yell at him later, if she wants, hell, he’ll look forward to it, but he needs her to go, he needs her to let him do this before they’re all lost. He believes in her more than he believes that the sun will rise in the morning. He just needs her to move, right now, because he’s not sure how much longer he can stay on his feet. He clings to his trust in her as he drowns in the rising heat, until she turns and runs. He stays upright one more second, and another, and then he’s down, lost in a burning embrace.

 —

            She startled him, dropping onto the Eiffel Tower beside him out of nowhere. He leapt to his feet like a frightened cat, babbling in surprise, “Milady! I didn’t think we had a patrol today, I was just— Oh. L–Ladyubg?” She had seized him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and buried her face into his shoulder. He patted her back awkwardly, uncertainly. “Are you okay?”

            She didn’t lift her head, but shook it against his collarbone, and with a deep, shuddering breath, suddenly let out a sob. Chat was frozen. He had never seen her do this, never had to comfort her before. He’d never had to comfort _anyone_ before, except when Chloe had one of her temper tantrums, and those were almost always easily fixable. He returned her hug as best he could, wrapping an arm around her back, bringing his other hand up to hesitantly stroke her hair. He had no idea what to say, so he simply stayed quiet, letting her cry herself out.

            Eventually, she pulled away, rubbing awkwardly at the tears still running down over her mask and sniffling. She sat down on the edge of Tower, shoulders still shivering from time to time with half sobs. He joined her wordlessly, close enough that their knees were just barely not touching, waiting until her breathing finally evened out to speak.

            “Do you… want to talk about it?” he asked. For once he sounded very much like Adrien and not at all like Chat, falling back on politesse as a cover to his uncertainty. Intimacy had not been a part of Adrien’s life for so long that he found himself floundering even with Nino, the most easy-going person he’d ever met and officially his closest friend these days. With Ladybug, there was familiarity, but there was also an enforced distance. They couldn’t talk about their private lives even if they wanted to — one slip of the tongue or seemingly insignificant detail could clue the other one in to their secret identity; and in his case, very little of his life outside of Chat did not hinge in some fashion upon being Adrien Agreste. Even the normal sorts of complaints – too much homework, my chemistry teacher is a nightmare – were all tempered with his particular need to perform well enough that his father would not decide to homeschool him again. So their camaraderie was confined to flirting, casual banter, occasionally discussions of the newest Jagged Stone album, and that was fine. It was these moments — vulnerable, raw, emotional moments — that he was thoroughly unprepared to handle. He watched her, heart pounding, not sure if he was more scared of her answering yes or no.

            “I was scared, Chat,” she said eventually. He had never heard her voice so small and quiet. “I was really scared. Everyone kept telling me they trusted me, and that I was going to save everyone, but we just kept losing more and more people, and it seemed like all of Paris was overrun, and then they got Alya and Nino stayed behind and then they got _you_ … I really thought, maybe this would be the time that I couldn’t do it, maybe this time I was going to fail, and it’s all my fault because that akuma wasn’t even meant for—” She clapped a hand over her mouth suddenly, trembling, tears shimmering in her eyes again. “I thought…” she started again. “When you cataclysmed your way into the room, I know it made no sense, but I thought, maybe, somehow, maybe you hadn’t been affected, and I was _so relieved_ — It was stupid, I know, I was stupid, but I was just… I was desperate for some good news, for a friend… I can’t believe _Chloe Bourgeois_ saved us all by jumping in front of you for me.” She seemed to curl in on herself, shoulders hunching, arms drawing up closer to her chest until she was hugging herself. “Way too many people sacrificed themselves for me today,” she said. “I can’t— Chat, if there’s a day when I lose, how am I supposed to— to—” She threw her hands up and then buried her head into them. “People are counting on me _so much_. And I’m… just… _me_.” She scrubbed at her eyes again, tears dripping off her nose. Chat leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped, contemplating the ground below.

            “That’s enough, you know,” he said. “You being you. _You_ haven’t let us down yet. And I don’t think that you will. It’s like you always tell the citizens of Paris. We’ll _always_ be here to protect them. We haven’t lost a fight yet. There’s no reason to believe we will now.” She looked at him sideways, peeking out from her hands, staring down at his ring.

            “Why can’t you do it?” she asked suddenly.

            “Milady?”

            She pointed to his ring accusingly. “It’s not fair. We’re supposed to be balanced, equals, but I can cure akumas and I have the Miraculous Ladybug charm that does all kinds of things you can’t do. How is that _equals_? How can we be partners if everyone including you has to rely on me at the end of the day? That’s not _fair_.” Chat twisted the ring on his finger, considering it.

            “My kwami isn’t exactly forthcoming talking about this stuff,” he admitted. “If he knows about any extra powers I have, he hasn’t shared them. He just told me I can’t cure the akumas. I don’t know why.” He shifted, pulling his tail out from where it had gotten stuck under his leg. “But… we’re supposed to be opposites, aren’t we? Your lucky charm creates something, my cataclysm destroys something. So if your Miraculous Ladybug power sets everything back to rights, whatever I have would… what, break the city? That doesn’t sound like a power I’d ever want to use.” She sniffed.

            “That’s still not equal,” she said. “If you have a power that never helps you.”

            He shrugged, let a smile pull up the edges of his lip. “Maybe my miraculous really is supposed to be evil,” he teased. He looked up at her, playfully trying to glare. “Evil destruction kitty,” he growled, barely keeping a straight face. A laugh burst out of her, startled and slightly raspy from all her crying. He grinned like the Cheshire cat. “I’m here to steal all your Camembert.” His voice lost composure toward the end of the sentence, cracking with mirth, and caused a fresh round of laughter from her. They dissolved into giggles, their mirth echoing off the Tower down into the city below. The occasional tourist glanced up at them, squinting in confusion. When they lapsed into silence again, some of the tension had leaked out of Ladybug’s body, her back no longer so taut or her muscles so clenched.

            “I promised you kisses, you know,” she mused. Chat nearly fell off the Tower.

            “I— you _what_?”

            She snorted at his expression. “When you were zombified. I promised you you’d get a kiss, when you weren’t— you know.”

            “Is that, uh, is that a promise you intend to keep?” His voice cracked so high he thought the end of that sentence must have been inaudible to human ears. A smile curved Ladybug’s lips.

            “Well, just about everyone in Paris but me got a kiss yesterday. I don’t know, maybe I’d like a kiss.”

            “I still can’t believe I was kissing _Chloe_ ,” he shuddered, and Ladybug laughed again. “But, um, I, uh, are you… Are you asking?” Their eyes met for a moment. Hers seemed an even deeper blue than normal, serious and fond all at once.

            “I don’t want to…” She hesitated. “I don’t want to give you the wrong idea. I’m not sure what I feel, or think. I don’t want this to change anything too much between us. I just know…” She trailed off. “I just know a kiss would be nice,” she shrugged. His heart was pounding so fiercely in his chest that he could barely breathe, but he reached a hand up between them, pausing before he reached her cheek.

            “May I?” he asked, afraid to say it too loud. Her eyes had gone wide and they stayed fixed on him as she nodded. He gently cupped her cheek. They stayed there for a moment, simply staring, before both of them leaned their heads in. Their lips met in the middle, soft and warm and gentle. They eased into the kiss, careful and slow, as their eyes drifted close. Her mouth just barely opened against his, just enough for him to feel her breath against his skin. He tilted his head, angling his mouth to catch her bottom lip. She breathed in sharply, and then they pulled apart and it was over. He could do nothing about the grin on his face even if he wanted to. She flushed red to the roots of her hair.

            “Oh my God,” she said. “I just kissed Chat Noir, oh my _God_.” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t tell _anyone_ about this,” she shrieked quietly into her palms. Suddenly she jerked her head up, eyes wide and concerned. “Not because of you!” she rushed to clarify. “Not— not because it wasn’t good or I don’t want anyone to know or anything like that! But if I tell Al— If I tell anyone then they’re going to have questions and I won’t be able to answer them because who kisses _Chat Noir_ , right, I mean, that’s crazy, right?” Chat realized he must also be beet red; his entire face felt like it was on fire.

            “I just kissed _Ladybug_ ,” he said. “Oh, my God, _I just kissed Ladybug and I can never tell anyone_. That’s it, I’m going to be Chat Noir for the rest of my life. I can never talk to anyone ever again.” They both fell silent, looking at each other, and then came apart into nervous giggles. They both shifted so the gap between them was closed, their legs and shoulders pressed against each other.

            “I’m glad you’re my partner,” Ladybug sighed, once they’d lapsed back into silence. Chat hesitantly brushed the back of her hand, and she reached up and took his hand, interlacing their fingers.

            “There is no one else on Earth I would rather have by my side,” he answered. He glanced at her, and very softly squeezed her hand. “We’re going to save the world. You know that, don’t you, milady?”

            “Yeah,” she said. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! Kudos and comments are highly appreciated <3


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